


my blood is singing (with your voice)

by hipgrab (merrymegtargaryen)



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Do not repost, Dragonheart AU, F/M, and they have hearts, idk how else to tag it, that's the gist of it really, there are dragons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:08:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 15,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22424578
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merrymegtargaryen/pseuds/hipgrab
Summary: “I want you to go to Luke,” Queen Leia says firmly. “I need you to convince him to join our cause.”“Me?” Rey asks in disbelief. “Why? I’m...I’m no one.”“Not to my son. Not to the dragon that found you.”Rey takes a deep breath. “What if he doesn’t listen to me?”“He will.” Then, softer, “He must.”
Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 94
Kudos: 153





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I know some of you are looking at this and thinking, "But Meg, aren't you already posting like three other fics right now?"
> 
> The answer is yes, but project monogamy? I don't know her.
> 
> If you've ever seen Dragonheart, you'll know why, when I rewatched it recently, I was struck by how much of a reylo story it is. If you haven't seen Dragonheart, I hope you'll like this fic anyway and then decide to seek out what is unironically one of the greatest fantasy stories ever told. (Don't @ me, YES the CGI is bad but it is ALSO a really good movie!!) 
> 
> A thousand thanks to alittlerunaway for betaing this and encouraging me to post it as soon as possible <3 
> 
> Enjoy!!

Once upon a time, in a land far, far away, there lived a prince.

The prince was the apple of his mother’s eye. She loved him more than anyone in the world and would do anything to see him smile. She enlisted her brother, the greatest knight in the land, to train him in the art of sword fighting and to teach him the Old Code.

Unfortunately, the prince had inherited his father’s cockiness, and he grew tired of training with practice swords. He begged his uncle to let him use a real sword, and because his wish was his mother’s wish also, his uncle relented. The prince learned to fight with a real sword long before most boys do.

The prince and his uncle were sparring one day when a little peasant girl came running through the forest. Neither the prince nor his uncle saw her, nor did she see them until she fell against the prince, pushing him onto his uncle’s blade. The knight cried out, for he knew such a wound was mortal. He picked up his nephew and ran to the castle. The little peasant girl watched them, horrified. The prince looked at her face and knew that he would never forget it.

The queen was distraught to find her son so close to death. The knight looked at his sister and told her there was a way to save the boy, for the knight had also received a mortal wound in his youth. They must take the prince to a dragon and beg the dragon to give the prince part of its own heart. The knight had done this many years ago with another dragon. Such a gift bonds the two beings, and if the dragon dies, so does the human. 

The queen agreed, and together, they took the prince to the nearest dragon. He was an ancient dragon, pale white and fond of gold. He was not a kind dragon, but when the queen and her brother appealed to him, he agreed to give part of his heart to the prince. In return, he told them, he would one day call upon the prince for a favor. The queen and her brother promised his favor would be granted if he would only save the boy’s life.

The dragon gave part of his heart to the prince and breathed new life into him. His mother hugged him close and wept tears of gratitude. She was so happy to have her son healthy and alive.

Little did she know that when his human heart died, so did a piece of him, and something much darker grew in its place.

  
  



	2. Chapter 2

Ben Solo slides off his horse, handing the reins to a groom. 

“My prince,” Lady Phasma greets, falling into step with him.

“My father?”

“He is very ill, my lord.”

“How ill?”

She hesitates. “I have heard he may not last the night.”

The prince walks even faster, his cloak trailing behind him as he heads for his father’s chamber.

King Han lies in his four-poster bed, physicians and members of the court gathered in his room. They bow when they see Ben; he strides past all of them and kisses his mother’s cheek.

“Mother.”

“Ben,” she says softly, hugging him. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she adds, “He’s not doing well.”

“I know,” he whispers back. He kneels by his father’s bedside, taking the king’s hand in his own. “Father, it’s me. Ben.”

“Ben,” Han rasps, his eyes cloudy and unseeing. 

The prince looks around at the members of court, all of them watching and whispering. “Get out.”

“Ben,” his mother murmurs.

“Leave us alone,” he says loudly.

The members of court bow and curtsy before hurrying out of the room, leaving only the prince, the queen, and her brother, Sir Luke Skywalker. 

“Good,” Han rasps. “Hate those ass-kissers.”

“Han!” 

“I hate them too,” Ben says with a smile. “That’s why I kicked them out.”

“Good.” Han coughs. “I’m dying. They won’t say it to my face, but I can hear them whispering.” 

“It doesn’t look good,” Ben admits. 

“I want a moment alone with my son,” Han says in a louder voice.

Leia leans over to kiss him. “I’ll be right outside,” she tells him before her brother escorts her from the room, giving her an arm to lean on. 

Ben sits on the edge of the king’s bed. “What is it?”

Han takes his son’s hand. “I know you’re expecting me to give you some words of wisdom, but the truth is, I got nothing. I never wanted to be king. Your mother’s better at ruling than I was.”

“That’s true,” Ben says, and Han chuckles so hard that he coughs. “So if you don’t have any words of wisdom for me, why did you ask to be alone with me?”

Han gestures for him to come closer. “I don’t wanna cough my way into my grave while half the court watches. I need you to take me out of my misery.”

Ben feels even worse than he did when he heard about his father’s illness. “You could recover.”

“I won’t,” Han says cynically. “And even if I did, it’s only a matter of time before I really die. I’m old, Ben. I never planned to live this long. I always thought I’d die fighting, not like this. This feels...pathetic.”

Ben takes a deep breath. “Father. I’m not going to kill you.”

Han grabs a fistful of his son’s tunic, pulling him closer. “Ben. I’m begging you. It wouldn’t be killing me, it would be...helping me. Please.  _ Please _ .”

Ben closes his eyes. “I love you, Father.”

Han releases his tunic. “I love you, Ben.”

Ben reaches for the pillow at his father’s side.


	3. Chapter 3

_ One Year Later _

Under the cover of night, a young man steals into a small hut. The monk inside is an old man, and he smiles kindly at the young man.

“Take a seat. It’s almost done.”

The young man sits on one of the low stools, watching the fireplace. Inside is a dragon egg. 

The shell is yellow-white and cracked. Something is clearly moving beneath its shattered surface, and the young man watches in fascination. 

“How long has it been hatching?”

“A few hours,” the old man says. 

They sit in silence, watching the egg slowly crack. An orange claw bursts free from the shell and the men gasp. How many men have seen a dragon egg hatch? There are so few dragons in the world now, and those that remain have been here for thousands of years. 

“Where did you get it?” the young man asks softly.

“It was entrusted to me by an old friend. And now, I am entrusting it to you.”

The young man looks at him. “I’ll protect it with my life.”

“I know you will.”

A second claw joins the first, tearing at the eggshell. In a moment, a round little snout pushes out of the top. The young man slides off his chair, getting a closer look at the hatchling. It’s orange, an unusual color for a dragon--but there are so few left now, and he’s only seen a handful of those. The dragon peers up at him with wide eyes, and the young man gives it an encouraging smile.

“Come on, little buddy,” he murmurs. “You can do it.”

The dragon lets out a squeak and then pushes at the egg. It splinters, pieces falling into the fireplace. The dragon squirms until the egg falls on its side and the little orange hatchling climbs out. Its round little body moves uncertainly, using its legs for the first time in its short life.

“There you go,” the young man encourages, holding out a hand. The dragon climbs into it, puffs of smoke rising out of its nostrils. It’s hot to the touch, fresh from the fire, but the young man finds it soothing. 

“The first dragon born in over three hundred years,” the old man murmurs. 

“And the last, if the king keeps persecuting them,” the young man says darkly.

“It’s not the king who persecutes them, but the dragon who shares his heart.”

“Why would a dragon want other dragons dead?”

The old man shakes his head. “Dragons are older than mankind; it is said they came from the stars. Who knows why a dragon does anything?”

A noise from outside startles them both: the thunder of hooves.

The young man hops up, peering out the window. “You have to hide,” he tells the monk.

“You have to leave.” When the young man does not move, the monk touches his shoulder. “Go,” he says, sterner. 

The young man puts the dragon in his pocket and goes out the back door, hurrying to untie his horse. He swings into the saddle just as the soldiers come pouring into the remote village, candles flickering to life in every house as their occupants peer outside.

The young man urges his horse into the woods but dares not break into a run; not yet. If the soldiers should hear him…

The dragon crawls out of his pocket and onto his shoulder, squeaking.

“Not now,” the young man whispers. 

“Where is the old monk, Lor San Tekka?” one of the soldiers shouts.

No one answers, but to the young man’s dismay, the old man steps out of his hut.

“I am Lor San Tekka,” he says mildly.

A great black destrier comes forward, and on it…

The king.

He looks down at Lor San Tekka, unimpressed. “Look how old you’ve become.”

“Something far worse has happened to you,” the old man says, equally unimpressed.

If his words bother the king, the other man makes no sign of it. “You know what I’ve come for.”

“I know where you come from, before you became the Dragonslayer.”

“The dragon egg,” the king says, losing patience. “We know you have it. And now you’re going to give it to me.”

“I cannot,” Lor San Tekka tells him amiably. “It has already hatched, and the dragon has left.”

The king swings off his horse, his black armor glistening in the torchlight as he strides toward the old man. “I’ll know if you’re lying, old man.”

“Search my hut if you like. All you’ll find is a cracked egg.”

The king considers him for a long moment. 

“How can you slay these great creatures?” Lor San Tekka asks in a pleading tone. “Your heart is of one of the oldest and most powerful dragons. Think where you would be if dragons had not been there to save you.”

“You think that was saving me?” the king sneers. 

“I think you are long past saving now.”

“You’re so right.” And before Poe Dameron has time to blink, the king unsheathes his sword and swings it at the old man. 

The young man reacts before he can think about it; he takes his bow and arrow and fires an arrow at the king. It misses, and with one wave of his hand, two soldiers come running forward to take Poe.

He looks at his shoulder, but the dragon is gone. When had it left? Is it alright?

They drag him to the king and throw him onto his knees. The king kneels down, looking his old friend in the face.

“So who talks first?” Poe asks, staring at a man he once knew well. “You talk first? I talk first?”

“The old man gave it to you,” Ben Solo realizes. “Search him.”

The guards search Poe’s pockets thoroughly, but they find nothing. For that he is relieved. 

“Take him to the castle,” the king orders.

“Your Grace,” Captain Phasma says, coming forward. “The village.”

The king looks indifferently at the village. “Torch it.”

Poe Dameron watches in horror as the guards throw their torches on the thatch roofs of the village, setting the houses ablaze. The air fills with screams as the villagers try to escape their homes, men, women, and children all. 

_ This is all my fault _ , Poe thinks to himself.

.

In the forest, the little orange dragon scampers across the forest floor, far away from the king who wants him dead.


	4. Chapter 4

In a village across the woods, a young woman bends over her work desk. She’s intent on her work, as she always is. There aren’t many women who know how to work tin, so she has to be especially careful with her craft, or else they’ll all say that women make bad smiths. 

She’s been smithing since she was old enough to live on her own. She’d had to find a trade to keep her free and independent of Unkar Plutt--or near enough. She still lives on his land, thus making her his serf and slave, but gone are the days when she was a little foundling who slept by his hearth. He’d used her in the mines, her little body able to wriggle in tight nooks and crannies, her little hands able to pry at what no grown man’s hands could. But once she’d gotten older, her usefulness had faded, and he began to see her as little more than an extra mouth to feed. He’d made her a scullery maid, and when she became a little older, he offered her another position: bed warmer. She’d refused, and in his anger he’d sent her packing.

She is no man’s bed warmer, nor will she ever be. She bears no ill will to those that make their living by warming a man’s bed, but it isn’t her. She likes to work, likes to make her own living. The house in which she lives, the tools which she uses, the food that she eats, all of it was bought and paid for with her hard labor. 

Outside, the chickens squawk in distress. She looks up, wondering if a fox is trying to get in again. She takes off her apron and gets up, walking out to the coop.

The chickens are flapping and squawking in their pen, clucking in distress when she nears them. Something in the coop is agitating them. She ducks inside, ready to find a fox.

“Come out, come out, wherever you are,” she sings, peering in the dark recesses of the coop. 

A flash of orange catches her eye and she whips her head to the side. She cries out in surprise, for staring back at her is not a fox at all.

It’s a dragon. 

At least, it  _ looks _ like a dragon. It’s very small to be such a creature. A lizard, perhaps? But no, what lizard has wings?

“What are you?” she breathes.

The little creature lets out a squeak. She’s never heard a lizard squeak like that before. But then again, neither has she heard dragons squeak before.

But then  _ again _ , she’s never even seen a dragon. There were so few of them in the world when she was a child, and in the years since their numbers have dwindled. King Ben has seen to that. 

“Are you a dragon?” she presses.

The little creature nods.

“You can understand me?”

It nods again. 

She feels her heart thump in her chest. “I’m Rey. What’s your name?”

It squeaks again. 

“You can’t talk at all?”

It shakes its head. 

“Well, that’s no good.” She tilts her head. “I’ll call you...BeeBee. Like the sound you make.” She holds out her hand, and tentatively, BeeBee climbs into it.

The enormity of what is happening doesn’t hit her until the little creature is in her hand, hot as if he’d come right from the fire. This is a  _ dragon _ . The king has ordered every dragon slain, save for the one who lives in the mountains. It’s said that the king shares a heart with that dragon and that it’s made him less human. Some say he even killed his father, the old King Han, to become king himself.

He’d want this little dragon dead, wouldn’t he? It is a dragon, after all. 

“Don’t be afraid,” she says, sensing the dragon’s hesitation. “I won’t tell anyone about you. I’ll keep you safe.” She smiles. “I promise.”

BeeBee breathes a tiny flame. 

_ What, _ Rey wonders,  _ have I gotten myself into? _


	5. Chapter 5

BeeBee, as she calls the dragon, quickly grows to be one of her closest companions. He’s constantly on her shoulder or curled up on the windowsill, soaking in the sun’s warmth. When she leaves her cottage, he climbs into her pocket, snug against her skin. 

She likes having the dragon around. He’s a better companion than her chicken or her goat; he’s more perceptive, almost like a person. Even though he can’t talk, he communicates as best he can. It’s nice, having someone else around. She’s on her own so much of the time, and it’s nice to have someone to talk to, someone to listen to her. She likes to prattle when she’s working on a new project, likes to say whatever comes to mind as she plies her trade.

She’s doing it when a knock comes upon her door, startling her. She isn’t expecting anyone, but that doesn’t mean someone hasn’t come to her, asking for a commission or repair. She scoops up BeeBee, depositing him in her pocket before getting up to open the door.

It’s Unkar Plutt. 

“Who were you talking to?” he asks in a would-be genial tone, but Rey knows better. Unkar’s kindness always comes with a price.

“Myself,” she says, which isn’t fully a lie. It’s not as if BeeBee can really respond to the things she says.

“Why?” he asks, still in that genial tone. 

She shrugs. “Helps me think. What can I do for you?”

“People are starting to talk, Rey. A woman living alone, working a man’s trade…” He gives her a knowing look. “It isn’t right.”

“Neither is scrubbing your floors by day and licking your cock by night.”

His face clouds over. “Careful, girl. I let you have this cottage and play at being a tinker, but--”

“But what?” she counters. “You’ll take away the cottage I bought with my own money?”

He leans in, filling her nostrils with the stench of sweat and wine. “It’s my tin you tinker with. This cottage is on my land. And if you disrespect me, I’ll have you out of this cottage and off this land before you can blink. See if you can find another lord who lets you use his tin the way I do.”

She clenches her jaw, because she knows he’s right. Other lords might not be so willing to let a woman use the fruits of his mines to support herself. In fact, she  _ knows _ they won’t be. Unkar’s generosity is just that--generosity. How much longer will he be content to let her work on his land with his tin and no profit for him?

Unkar sees the resignation on her face and leans back, satisfied. “That’s my girl. And remember, Rey, if you ever get tired of your circumstances…”

“I’ll know where to find you,” she says tightly. 

He nods, smiling, and walks away. 

Rey closes the door, letting out a breath.

BeeBee peers out of her pocket, squeaking.

“Don’t worry about him. Or me. I’m fine.”

She only hopes she’s right.

.

She decides to be more careful with BeeBee--and with Unkar. She can’t risk anyone finding out about the dragon, nor can she risk giving Unkar a reason to take away her home and her livelihood.

It isn’t enough. 

She comes home from the mine one day to find her door wide open. Her breath stops in her throat, and carefully, she tiptoes inside.

No one is here now, but someone had most definitely been here earlier. The place has been ransacked, her bed overturned, papers scattered, her commissions lying helter-skelter on the ground. She sinks to her knees, trembling, and begins righting the mess. 

Someone was looking for something. That much is obvious. But  _ what _ ?

BeeBee squeaks in concern. 

“They were looking for something,” she explains. “I just don’t know what or who.”

BeeBee peers up at her, and with a sudden sick feeling, Rey realizes what they were looking for.

“We have to leave,” she decides, standing up. “We’re not safe here.  _ You’re _ not safe here.”

“Who isn’t safe, Rey?”

She spins around, cursing, and sees Teedo, one of Unkar’s loyal cronies. He’s been hiding behind the door, and at the sight of the dragon peering out of her pocket, his smirk widens. “Well, well,  _ well _ ! Unkar was right--you’ve been a naughty girl, Rey!”

“Get out,” she snarls. 

“Oh, I will.”

It occurs to her, a moment too late, that he’s going straight to Unkar. He’ll take BeeBee and give him to the king, and Rey...she doesn’t even want to imagine what he’ll do to her. 

She doesn’t give herself time to pack, not food or clothes or anything. She knows that as soon as Teedo tells Unkar, she’s done for. Instead, she waits until he’s out of sight before stealing out of her cottage, making for the woods. There’s a village on the other side, and with any luck, she can barter her way into getting a horse, or hitching a ride on a cart going far from here. At the very least, it will buy her time. 

.

They’re about halfway through the woods when they come across a stream. Rey stops, letting BeeBee scamper around the rocks while she drinks from the cold water and splashes it on her face and neck. Already, she feels calmer. They made it this far without anyone following them; maybe they’ll make it out of the woods yet.

It is at that moment that she hears hooves pounding across the forest floor. She stands up, heart racing. 

“BeeBee, hide,” she says urgently.

The dragon squeaks and skitters beneath some rocks. 

Rey can’t decide if she should run or stand her ground. If she runs, she might get away. But if she runs and they catch her, she’ll look guilty. If she stands her ground, however…

The horses pour over the slope, all of them black and fierce. Their riders wear black armor and black cloaks, and their leader wears a crown on his helmed head. 

The king.

But it isn’t just the king. She knows him. 

_ The boy from the woods. _

She met him once, long ago. He’d been young then, and she’d been even younger. A child, trying to run from Unkar Plutt. He’d been beating her again, and she’d tried to flee. She’d been so busy running that she hadn’t seen the knight and boy before her until it was too late. She’d run right into the boy, pushing him onto the knight’s blade. 

She never had learned what happened to that boy. The knight had carried him away, shouting, and that was the last she’d ever seen of him. 

At confession, the priest had told her to put these thoughts from her mind. It took time, but she did. She attended mass and said her prayers and kept her mind on her work, and over time, the nightmares of the boy’s pale face faded from her memory.

He should have died from that wound, but here he is now, standing in front of her.

The king.

Rey holds her ground, trying not to show fear as the horses circle around her. The king looks at her with unabashed interest. Does he remember her?

He swings off his horse, striding towards her. “At last,” he murmurs in a deep voice. “The girl I’ve heard so much about.”

So Unkar did tell him about her. That rat.

“The dragon,” he continues, eyes scanning her body for signs of BeeBee. “Where is it?”

“I don’t have a dragon,” she says, which isn’t untrue; BeeBee isn’t with her anymore. 

“Lying is a sin,” he tells her softly. 

“I don’t have a dragon,” she says again, louder. “Search me if you like, you won’t find anything.”

The king considers her for a long moment. Deciding something, he looks up at his knights and nods.

Before Rey can ask if she’s free to go, something hard hits her on the back of the head. The last thing she sees before the blackness closes in is the king.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so Einon's and Kara's scenes were the entire basis for this fic. I just can't get over how reyloesque their dynamic is. 
> 
> Minus, you know, how it ends.

When Rey wakes, she’s chained to a wall. She’s in a cell of some kind, with pale sunlight streaming through the window.

And sitting across from her is the king.

Ben Solo.

The boy from the forest all those years ago. 

“Where am I?” she asks, fear creeping into her voice. 

He’s quiet for a moment. Then, “You’re my guest.” He stands up, walking over to her. “I remember you. You gave me this scar.” He tugs his shirt down to show her the scar over his chest. She looks away, afraid, but he lifts her chin and forces her eyes to meet his. “I owe you for that, I suppose.” He drops his hand, taking a step back. “Tell me about the dragon.”

She stares straight ahead, unable to look him in the eye. “Small. Orange. Makes a  _ beebee _ sound.”

“Dragons are notoriously suspicious of humans, yet the dragon came to you.  _ You _ , a tinsmith.” His eyes rove over her body. “You know I can take whatever I want.”

“I’d like to see you try.”

He actually smiles. “Guard,” he calls, and a man-at-arms enters, gripping his spear. “Take the girl to my rooms. Have the maids give her a bath.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” 

Rey’s mouth falls open, but the king is already striding from the room. He wants her  _ bathed _ and brought to his room?

“What does he want with me?” she asks the guard as he unlocks her chains. 

“Quiet.” He takes her arm, pulling her roughly out of the chamber. His hand clamped around her arm, she finds herself stumbling down labyrinthine corridors and up winding staircases, until at last she’s shoved into a plain but rich room. “Stay here,” he orders before slamming the door shut.

Rey knows better than to try and escape. Instead, she contents herself with wandering the chamber. This must be the king’s chamber, though why it is so sparse, she cannot say. There are no tapestries on the walls, no patterns on the canopy or curtains. The bedclothes are velvet but plain and impeccably smooth, almost as if no one has ever slept in them. 

_ Who is this man? _ she wonders.

Swords and axes and knives hang neatly over the mantel; she’s fingering one, wondering what the heft would feel like, when the door opens and she stumbles back, sticking her hands to her sides.

Three women enter; one is carrying a copper tub, and the other two bear buckets of steaming water. Almost without looking at Rey, the women set down the tub and dump the water inside. They leave and come back until the tub is full, and then they finally look at Rey. 

“Well, get in,” one of them says sternly. 

Rey hesitates. “Why does he want me to have a bath?”

“It’s not our place to ask. He’s the king, and his command is law. Now get in or we’ll  _ make _ you get in.”

Rey knows she means it, so she makes quick work of her clothes, fingers undoing frayed laces. She winces as more and more of her is uncovered until finally she is bare; embarrassed, she sinks quickly into the tub, hissing as the steaming water meets her skin. Immediately, a layer of dirt comes off her skin, swirling in the water.

The maids set to work, dumping water over her head and working oils into her hair, scrubbing her back and working rough soap over her back and arms and legs. They scrub her raw, until her skin  _ glistens _ and her hair is smooth and fragrant. When they bring her out and towel her off, one of the women tugs a clean shift over her head while the other two take away her dirty clothes for laundering. Pages are summoned to take away the tub, and the first woman sits Rey in a chair to comb out her hair.

She’s untangling a knot when the door opens, and in walks the king.

The woman curtsies, but Rey remains planted in the chair, staring defiantly at the king. He looks amused as he takes her in; a jerk of the head dismisses the woman, who scurries away at once. 

“There she is,” the king murmurs softly. “I thought there was a woman beneath all that dirt.” He comes forward, and Rey leaps out of the chair, stumbling back as he keeps advancing. She comes close to the mantle and remembers.

_ The weapons. _

With one swift movement, she reaches up over the mantle, prying a dirk loose from its place. The king vaults forward to stop her, but she pierces his shoulder, stumbling back when he shudders to a stop.

_ He’s alive, _ she notes with relief, for as much as she hates and fears the man before her, she would hate and fear being executed for a kingslayer even more. She watches as he touches the red stain, looking only slightly irritated before he straightens up and continues his advance.

“Next time, stab more flesh, and less cloth.”

“I’ll pierce your heart,” she threatens, and when he doesn’t stop, she lunges for him.

The king grabs her wrists, wrestling her easily onto the bed and pinning down her slight body with his much larger one. He plucks the knife from her hand. “You already did.”

Rey finds herself shamed for reasons she can’t begin to articulate. “An accident.”

“I know.” He sits up, and she scoots back, sitting up and watching him nervously. “As I said, I owe you for that. Your accident gave me a dragon’s heart.”

“A black, withered thing without pity,” she whispers.

He doesn’t look angry, or offended. If anything, he looks...not amused, not really, but something like it. “Then teach me. Pity me. I’ll give you everything. Even power. Even a throne.” He pauses. “You’re so beautiful.”

She flinches when he reaches for her, trying to think of something, anything to say. “Is it true you killed your father?” she blurts, wincing when she realizes just how precious of a position she’s put herself in.

He pauses, his hand falling. To her surprise, he doesn’t look angry. Just...sad. “Yes.”

“Why?” she whispers.

“He was dying. I put him out of his misery.” He gets up suddenly. “Think on what I’ve said.” And with that, he leaves the room.

Rey sags against the headboard, breathing hard. What was all that? 

_ I’ll give you everything. Even power. Even a throne. _

She feels dizzy with fear and something oddly like intoxication.  _ Power. A throne. Does he want me to be his queen? Me, who made him fall on a sword? Me, the cause for his inhuman heart? Why would he want that? He doesn’t even know me. _

Maybe it’s just a trap. She knows plenty of girls in the village who were promised things by men, only for the men to take their maidenheads and abandon them after. Why should the king be any different?

_ Because he’s the king. _ He doesn’t need to lie prettily to take her maidenhead, if that’s what he wants. 

_ You know I can take whatever I want, _ he’d told her.

So why hasn’t he taken her yet?

.

Hours pass with no sign of the king’s return. The sun sinks low in the sky, filling the room with a golden-red light before a deep indigo sets in. 

The sky is full of stars when the stone before the fireplace shifts, and Rey watches in shock as a woman emerges from below.

_ The queen dowager, _ she realizes, seeing the golden band around the woman’s head. Her dress is finer than anything even a noblewoman would wear, and she carries herself like one born to rule. 

“Don’t be afraid,” she says when she sees Rey. “I’ve come to help you.” She beckons Rey closer, and the younger woman comes forward reluctantly.

“Why?”

“I can explain later--come with me now.” 

The alternative is Rey staying in the king’s chamber and waiting for him to do...whatever it is he plans to do. So in her shift and boots, she follows the queen down a staircase, the stone slab closing overhead, and down a winding series of stairs. She’s grateful the queen carries a candelabra, for without it, they would be stumbling in the dark.

It feels like they’ve been walking for miles when they reach the castle sewers. A wide-eyed serving maid is waiting for them; she silently hands Rey her freshly laundered clothes, which Rey pulls on gratefully. 

“My son was planning to dispose of these and bring you something finer, I believe,” the queen says wryly. “But I had Rose intervene.”

“Thank you,” Rey says earnestly. “I...why does he...what does he  _ want _ ?”

The queen’s face hardens. “I don’t know anymore. A blackness has taken over my son. He’s not the person he once was.” She puts her hand on Rey’s shoulder. “Is it true that you had the dragon?”

Rey hesitates. 

“I’m not going to punish you, Rey, I want to help you.”

Rey trusts the other woman. “Yes. I had the dragon. He...it found me.”

“And you have no idea where it’s gone now?”

Rey shakes her head. 

“That’s for the best; the less you know, the less my son knows,” Queen Leia says grimly. “Rey, you kept a dragon safe even though it is the law not to. You defied the king when obeying him would have been more beneficial to you. That tells me you’re a good person. We need good people like you.”

“We?”

There’s a glint in the queen’s eye. “There are those of us who want to see the kingdom restored to the old ways, when men and dragons worked together.”

Rey stares at her. “Are you...are you trying to overthrow your own  _ son _ ?”

“There is no other choice,” the queen says sadly. “He’s a shadow of my son, ruled by the dragon Snoke. The only way to bring my son back is to remove Snoke’s heart, but that would kill my son. So we must remove him from the throne. It is the only way.” She clasps Rey’s hand. “My brother Luke was once a great knight, and Ben’s instructor and protector. When Ben began to...turn, Luke blamed himself. He says it was his fault Ben was stabbed that day, and that if he had taken better care of him, we never would have had to take him to Snoke.”

Rey feels tears fill her eyes. She doesn’t know how to tell the queen, how to tell the king’s  _ mother, _ that she’s the reason for his blackened heart, that she was the one who made him fall on his uncle’s sword, that it was that corruption that made the king kill his own father, her husband. “My queen, I...I…”

“I want you to go to Luke,” Queen Leia says firmly. “I need you to convince him to join our cause.”

“Me?” Rey asks in disbelief. “Why? I’m...I’m no one.”

“Not to my son. Not to the dragon that found you.”

Rey takes a deep breath. “What if he doesn’t listen to me?”

“He will.” Then, softer, “He must.” 

Rey swallows. “Where would I find him?”

“On the island of Ahch-To. It’s one of the last surviving Celtic settlements, and largely abandoned. It’s off the coast, near the cliffs.”

“Off the coast near the cliffs,” Rey repeats. “Alright. I’ll go. If...if you think it will help.”

“I do,” the queen says gently. “My man is waiting for you at the other end of this tunnel.” She points. “This will take you out of the castle. Chewbacca is loyal to me; he’ll see you delivered safely to the island.”

“And the dragon?”

“He found his way to you once; perhaps he’ll find his way to you again.”

Rey nods, and to her surprise, the queen embraces her. 

“Thank you, Rey,” she says softly. She pulls back and gestures to the serving maid named Rose, who brings forward a sword in a leather scabbard. “This is Luke’s sword. He left it with me when he went into hiding. Perhaps he can wield it once more. Now go, before my son realizes you’re missing.”

Rey takes the sword, noticing the heft in her hands. At a nod from the queen, she takes a deep breath and goes down the tunnel. The light wanes until there’s nothing left, and she has to feel her way along the slimy stone walls.

At last, a light appears ahead of her, and she stumbles towards it with renewed purpose. The tunnel slopes upward, and she walks up it, finally coming out into the fresh night air.

The tallest man Rey has ever seen is waiting for her, torch in one hand, the reins of two horses in the other. 

“Are you...Chewbacca?” she asks, uncertain.

His affirmation is more growl than human tongue, but it’s an affirmation all the same. She climbs onto the smaller of the horses, saving the larger for Chewbacca. With a nod, he leads them into the night. 


	7. Chapter 7

They ride all through the night; in the morning, they reach the coast. Chewbacca takes them out onto the water in a boat that is almost half his size, but he rows it surely and steadily and it does not founder. Early morning mists swirl over the water, and when they part at last, a peculiar looking island appears over the water.

The island is queerly high, like mountains that were crammed on top of a spit of land. Steep, winding steps run up the side of the mountains, and near their crest, Rey sees beehive-like huts. 

“This is Ahch-To?” she asks aloud.

Chewbacca makes another growl of affirmation. When he reaches the docks, he pulls Rey onto them with one easy movement. He could crush a man’s skull the way a child might squeeze an overripe tomato, yet he’s as gentle with Rey as a mother with her babe. 

When she alights, he points to the steps. 

“Aren’t you coming?”

He shakes his head. “You must go alone,” he says in that rough growl of his. 

She takes a deep breath before beginning her ascent.

.

The stairs to the top of the mountain are steep and winding, and Rey has to stop more than once to catch her breath. When she finally does reach the top, she sees a hooded figure at the crest, standing in the grass and looking out at the ocean. He turns to look at her, and Rey knows instantly that this grizzled man is the knight Sir Luke Skywalker.

Wordlessly, Rey extends the hilt of his sword to him, an offering she hopes he understands.

Slowly, quietly, he takes the sword from her, turning over the hilt in his hands. She steps back, looking on with a proud smile. 

Luke looks up at her...and chucks the sword to the side. 

Rey gapes as he walks way, unperturbed. 

“Sir Luke?” she asks, grabbing the sword and chasing after him. He moves swiftly down the stairs; Rey follows him into the gathering of beehive-like huts, where he moves into one and locks the door behind him.

“Sir Luke?” she asks again. “Your sister Queen Leia sent me. We need your help.”

Nothing.

She knocks on the door.

Nothing.

“Hello?”

Still nothing.

She waits for a long time, but Luke does not emerge. Frustrated, she goes back up the hill to retrieve the sword--it deserves better than lying abandoned in the grass. 

When she bends down to take the sword, she squats for a moment, giving her tired legs a break. She looks around, taking in the island. It’s pretty here, but very remote. In the water below, she can see the remains of a sunken skiff--Luke’s skiff, it must be.

_ By sinking it, he’s made sure he can never leave. _

She stands up. “I need reinforcements.”

.

When she knocks on Luke’s door again, he tells her to go away. She steps aside and lets Chewbacca break down the door.

“Chewie, what are you doing here?” Luke asks in disbelief.

“You’re coming back with us,” Chewbacca growls.

“How did you find me?”

“It’s a long story, we’ll tell you on the way back.”

“I don’t think so,” Luke scoffs, pushing past her. She follows him out of the hut, determined not to let him get more than a few paces from her.

“There’s no light left in the king. He’s only becoming darker. He’s after my dragon.”

“Your dragon?” Luke does look up at that.

“He’s not with me,” she admits. “But I had one. A hatchling. He found me. The king was after this dragon. He knew when it was hatching, he knew where it was hatching, he knew how to find it after it escaped.” Her voice softens. “We need your help. We need Luke Skywalker.”

He looks up at her with a bitter expression. “You don’t need Luke Skywalker.”

She frowns. “Did you hear a word I just said?”

“You think, what? I’m going to walk out with my sword and face down the dragon Snoke and all the king’s men? What did you think was going to happen here? You think that I came to the most unfindable place in the country for no reason at all?” He turns, leaving them. “Go away.”

“I’m not leaving without you!” Rey insists, but she can hear the weakness in her own voice. 

_ I’m not weak, _ she tells herself.  _ I’m strong. I’ll prove how strong I am. And when Luke sees it, he’ll listen to me. _

.

She follows Luke around the island for a day and a night. He keeps himself busy with a thousand menial tasks, some more trivial than others. Rey isn’t stupid; she knows it’s all a ploy to exhaust her and make her want to give up. But she won’t give up, no matter how tired she gets from following him up and down the mountain, no matter how hard it rains and how cold and miserable it is here.

The rain has let up in the morning, giving way to a wet, windy mist, when Rey sets out to follow Luke again. She’s exhausted, and hasn’t even stopped to eat breakfast. He has the advantage, scurrying up a slick hill; Rey starts to follow, but a deep rumbling sound comes from the vale between mountains, a low point shrouded in fog.

No, not fog.

_ Smoke. _

Rey makes her way down the slippery hillside, using rocks and roots for handholds. When she finally does reach the bottom, she sees a dark shape looming over her through the smoke.

Two glowing yellow eyes appear, and she stumbles back in surprise. 

“I thought I smelled fresh blood,” an enormous maw rumbles. 

_ A dragon. _

“You!” Rey gapes. “You’re a dragon!”

“I am.” The dragon lowers its great head, and Rey stumbles back as he examines her.

“Who are you?” Rey finds herself asking. “I didn’t know there were any dragons left, except my hatchling and...Snoke.”

“That’s exactly what they want you to think,” the dragon says grimly. “My true name is impossible to pronounce in the human tongue, but men call me Obi-Wan.”

“Obi-Wan?” she repeats, eyes widening. “You were a great dragon! I remember the stories about you!”

“ _ Was _ ,” he says wryly. “Yes, I suppose, I  _ was _ a great dragon...but no longer. Now I am old and weary, and I have not left this island in many years.” He tilts his head. “But who are  _ you _ ?”

“Yes,” comes a voice, and Rey turns to see Luke standing behind her. “I’d like to know that myself.”

“I’m nobody,” she says honestly.

“Then how did you have a dragon?”

“I don’t  _ have _ him, he just...found me.”

“You must be special, then,” Obi-Wan says. “Dragons are slow to trust men.”

“I’m not a man.”

“No,” Luke says with a grim smile. “I suppose not.”

“Come with me,” Obi-Wan says, and the ground shakes as he walks on enormous clawed feet. Rey follows him along the stony ground of the Vale until they reach a curious structure, one that looks like an enormous, three-pronged tree trunk. 

“Go inside,” the dragon urges, and Rey does. Inside is a chamber, one that fills Rey with an odd sensation. She feels as if she is on the cusp of something, as if one move could make the earth erupt beneath her. 

“What is this place?” she whispers.

“Built a thousand years ago by Celts who worshipped dragons,” Luke explains, following her inside. “When the Romans came, they sought to put chains on the dragons and drag them back to their arenas. Dragon-baiting was a popular gladiatorial sport back then. This island was the last safe haven for dragons and those who loved them.” His face twists in a wry smile. “It still is, I suppose.”

“It doesn’t have to be.” She straightens up. “We can defeat the king. There are those who still love and want to protect dragons, and if we don’t stop the king--”

“Stop him. Or try to. This isn’t my fight.” Luke brushes past her, heading back out of the temple. “I came to this island to die. Maybe it’s time for the dragons to die, too.”

“Why?” Rey demands, and he stops. “Queen Leia sent me here with hope. If she was wrong, she deserves to know why. We all do.”

But Luke only walks away.

She storms out after him, stopping when Obi-Wan raises an enormous claw to block her path.

“Let him go,” the dragon says gently. “He needs time to think.”

“What does he need to think about?” she demands. 

“It is no easy thing, what you are asking of him,” Obi-wan says, still in that gentle tone of voice. “The king is his nephew. The only way to stop the corruption that has festered is to remove Snoke’s heart...but to do that would kill the boy. So, does Luke kill his nephew? Or does he let him live while condemning what’s left of the dragons to death?”

“Why does Snoke want other dragons dead, anyway?” Rey asks. 

Obi-Wan is quiet for a long moment. “Dragons are not immortal, you know,” he says at last. “We live for hundreds of years, yes, but we are not immortal. There is a way to prolong our lives, however.”

Rey doesn’t like where this is going. “Does it involve killing other dragons?”

He bows his head. “It involves eating another dragon’s heart.”

Rey’s stomach turns. “So that’s why he has all other dragons killed? To eat their hearts and live even longer?”

“Yes. At this point, Snoke may well live until the end of time...but it will never be enough. Once you’ve tasted the power of prolonged life, there is no turning back...or so I’m told.” Obi-Wan sighs. “And because Snoke and Ben are linked, Ben will also live to the end of time.”

“So...we should kill them,” Rey says uncertainly. “I mean...shouldn’t we? It’s not enough to just imprison them because...how do you even imprison a dragon, let alone until the end of time?”

Obi-Wan looks sad. “But it’s not Ben’s fault for Snoke’s avarice. Why should he have to pay the price?”

Rey stares at him. “But he’s...he’s  _ evil _ . He killed his father, he told me himself.”

“What did he tell you?”

“He said...he said his father was dying, and he put him out of his misery.”

Obi-Wan bows his head. “So he did. Han  _ was _ dying, and he asked Ben to finish him off. Leia doesn’t know, it would have killed her, but Ben confided in Luke. One of the last kind words exchanged between them before Snoke took over. Before that, he was a good, sweet boy. I knew him. He loved knights and dragons, and he would have made a just ruler. Imagine who he could be without Snoke controlling his every move.”

Rey tries not to think about how guilty she feels for asking the king about his father. “But Snoke will always control him, and if we kill Snoke, then Ben dies.”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan says sadly. “He does.”

“You feel sorry for him,” Rey realizes.

“Don’t you?”

The question hits her like a slap in the face. Wordless, she moves past the dragon, filled with something like guilt and shame. Her legs carry her up the slope to the cluster of huts. Wet and tired and full of despair, she collapses on her hard stone bed and falls asleep.


	8. Chapter 8

Rey’s dreams are plagued by the king. She sees him looming over her, caging her in on his bed. Even more terrifying, she sees herself enjoying it, their bodies twined. The dream shifts, and she sees herself on the throne beside him, a crown on her head and a pile of bloody hearts at their feet. 

She wakes with a start, her own heart pounding. The sun is shining through the window of her hut; the rain has let up at last. 

She finds bread, cheese, apples, and ale at her door; an apology from Luke, perhaps? Or Chewbacca looking after her? It matters little; she devours the tray of food and gulps down the ale. Her spirits restored, she sheathes Luke’s sword and takes a walk around the island. 

Perhaps they don’t need Luke. Queen Leia had wanted to bring him back, but there are other knights, other warriors who can help them defeat the king and Snoke. How hard can it be, anyway? All you need is a sword. A sword, and the will to use it.

She glances down at the sword on her belt. Slowy, she pulls it from her scabbard. It’s heavy, but she finds the weight to be solid and steadying. She grips the hilt, trying to get a good hold on it, and swings the blade back and forth. She likes the way it cuts the air, the  _ whishing _ sound it makes. She cuts in hard diagonals, twirling the blade over her head when she changes direction.

Soon she’s shed her cloak and rolled up her sleeves, swinging the blade at an imaginary enemy. She thrusts and parries, panting and working up a sweat as the movements become smoother and more fluid. 

It isn’t until she’s stopped for a breather that she realizes Luke and Obi-Wan have been watching her. Luke turns away, heading up the hill in silence, but Obi-Wan remains.

“And you thought you needed Luke,” Obi-Wan jokes as she makes her way towards him. 

“Why is he here?” Rey demands. “I know he feels guilty for what happened to his nephew, but he’s a knight, he swore an oath. Hiding here while the realm needs him is breaking that oath.”

“It’s not as easy as all that,” Obi-Wan says gently. “There are other vows you take when you become a knight, vows about protecting and serving the king. But protecting and serving the king means letting the realm suffer, and protecting and serving the realm means killing the king. How, then, can he do this thing?”

Rey bites her lip.

“I know you think he’s evil,” Obi-Wan continues gently. “But I promise you, underneath the king ruled by Snoke, there is a good, sweet boy who loved dragons and wanted only to be a knight of the realm. That boy is still there.”

Rey thinks back to the boy in the forest all those years ago. Grief takes her, and she sinks to the ground. 

“Rey?”

“I killed that boy,” she says softly. 

“What?”

She swallows. “The accident, the one that led Luke and Leia to take the prince to Snoke...that was my fault. I was...running, in the woods, and I happened upon them, and I...I ran into the prince, and he fell on Luke’s blade. This blade.” She touches the offending weapon. “I saw Luke carry him away, but I didn’t realize who he was or what happened to him until a few days ago.” She buries her face in her hands. “This isn’t Luke’s fight. This isn’t anyone’s. It’s mine. I killed the prince, and now I have to save him.” She rises on shaky legs. “I can’t kill Snoke without killing the king, but maybe...maybe I don’t have to.”

_ I’ll give you everything. Even power. Even a throne. _

_ He could have hurt me. He could have had me. But he didn’t. He  _ didn’t.

“Rey?” Obi-Wan asks uncertainly. 

“I have to go back to the mainland,” she declares. “I have to save Ben, if I can.”

“What do you intend to do?”

_ Teach me. Pity me. _

_ I’ll give you everything. Even power. Even a throne. _

“I have an idea,” she mutters, returning the sword to its scabbard. 

“Rey?”

But she’s already climbing the hill to the cluster of huts. The sun is beginning to grow dimmer as clouds roll in--it will rain again soon, and she must be gone by then.

She finds Chewbacca at the dock, casting a fishing net out into the water. 

“We have to go,” she tells him.

He straightens up, gaping at her. “Already?”

“Yes.”

“Luke…”

“He’s not coming.” She hops into the boat. “Well?”

He shakes his head and follows her in, abandoning the net. He unties the boat, using the oars to shove them off, and then rows them towards the mainland. All through the journey, he shoots her furtive looks, but Rey says nothing, only stares ahead as the mainland comes into view and grows bigger and bigger. When they reach the shore, he hops out of the boat, pushing it the rest of the way onto the beach. Then he reaches over to lift her out of the boat, his height and strength making her feel like a child again.

“Alright,” he grunts, setting her down. “Where to now?”

She takes a deep breath. “To the king.”

.

She parts with Chewbacca on the road, riding her horse ahead to the castle. There are hundreds of people milling about in the courtyard, but Rey looks past all of them, tipping her head back until she sees the king watching her from a window. 

For some reason, she smiles.

She doesn’t know why. She doesn’t have any reason to smile at him, this king who captured her, imprisoned her, and means to kill her dragon. But something about the sight of him, this man shrouded in darkness, lifts her heart. 

But only for a moment.

The knights march out of the castle, and everyone parts to let them through. Rey glances back up at the window, but the king has disappeared. Sighing, she dismounts, handing over her scabbard and letting the knights search her. Satisfied they’ve stripped her of her weapons, they march her into the castle.

People stare as she’s brought in--servants, courtiers, lords and ladies and knights. Rey ignores them all, head held high. The knights do not speak, but she does not expect them to. 

They bring her to a wide, magnificent set of doors; royal guards open them to reveal the throne room. Rey admits to awe as they lead her in, for hanging from the walls are banners and tapestries, each richer and more colorful than the last. Stained glass windows cast shards of multicolored light along the floor, and at the end of the hall is a dais with two thrones. One is empty. In the other sits the king.

He looks like a king now, in black satin and a crown upon his head. When one of the knights shoves her forward, she finds herself kneeling.

“Your Grace,” she says softly.

The king waves a hand, and the throne room empties out until it’s just the two of them. He leans against one arm of the enormous basalt throne, gazing at her as if he can see right through her. 

“Last time I saw you,” he says at last, “you stabbed me. And the time before that, you made me fall onto my uncle’s sword. What will it be this time?

She can feel her heart start to sink. Has she made a terrible mistake?

“You came here of your own accord,” he continues, shifting. “Why?”

She swallows. “Last time, you made me an offer.”

“Yes,” he says, but does not go on.

“You told me to think on it.”

“I did.”

“Well, I have.”

“And?” he asks, but he looks bored, and she wonders if he’d only been toying with her. Now that she’s escaped and returned again, will he be as generous? Or does he resent her for leaving? 

She lifts her head. “I accept.”

The smile he gives her is sardonic. “You accept the throne I offered, is that it?”

“You asked me to teach you to pity. That is the offer I mean to accept.”

His smile fades. “Does that matter so much to you?”

She swallows, trying not to let herself look away. “It’s my fault that you fell onto your uncle’s sword. It’s my fault that you have a piece of Snoke’s heart. I want to right my wrongs.”

“How?” His voice is cold. “By killing me?”

“By showing you how to  _ live _ ,” she stresses. “You were a good person before Snoke corrupted you. You loved your parents, and your uncle...and dragons.”

He snorts, looking away. “When I was a boy.”

“I believe that boy is still inside you,” she protests. “Hidden somewhere. You will always have Snoke’s heart inside you, but you do not have to be his slave.”

“I’m  _ not _ his slave.” His eyes flash, his jaw tense. “I am the  _ king _ .”

“You wear a crown and you sit a throne, yes,” she says impatiently. “But at the end of the day, who rules this kingdom?”

His hand balls into a fist; for half a moment, she thinks he means to use it on her, and she flinches back. His hand relaxes at once, and the anger in his eyes is replaced with sorrow.

“I would never strike you,” he says, sounding hurt. 

“I’ve been struck before,” she murmurs. “It was the memory I flinched from.”

Anger returns to his face. “Unkar Plutt.”

She nods. “Yes.”

He stands up. “I’ll give you his head as a wedding gift.”

Despite the intensity of his threat, the thought makes her heart thrill. “I would have him spared, so whenever he looked at me or heard my name, he would remember that the king wanted him dead, and I interceded. He would know that he owed his miserable life to me.”

The king lets out a small laugh, and she sees a glimpse of the boy inside. He pulls her to her feet and sits her on the throne beside his. 

“When you are queen, Unkar Plutt and every person who ever looked down on you will kiss the floor you walk upon. I’ll make them.” He kneels before her, his face intoxicatingly close to hers. “You’ll want for nothing. I promise. You only have to ask, and it’s yours.” He brings up a hand to caress her cheek, his thumb rubbing her lips. They tingle where he’s touched her, and Rey thinks about wrapping her lips around his thumb, thinks about licking it and taking it into her mouth, when he freezes.

“Ben?” she whispers, but he drops his hand and stands up, turning away from her. She sits frozen in fear, worried she’s done something, but he’s so rigid he’s almost shaking. It frightens her, and she slides out of her seat, laying a tentative hand on his shoulder. “Ben?”

He turns to look at her at last, his eyes red. “He wants to see you,” he croaks.

“What?”

“Snoke.” He swallows. “He wants to see you.”


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this is a little later than normal. I've been sick physically and also emotionally.
> 
> I recently learned about something called the Fanfic Pocket Library. This is an app that automatically uploads all ao3 work and makes users pay for its services. It is in no way associated with ao3. No one on ao3 has given their permission for their work to be reposted, and none of us see a cent of the money users pay. 
> 
> I don't know if this author's note will make it onto the chapter that gets uploaded to the Pocket Library. People are telling me that even when they put "do not upload this work onto another site" in their tags, those tags get removed and the work gets uploaded anyway. Over 100 of my fics have been posted there without my permission. Please, please report this if you can. Reach out to ao3, email the mod of that app (since the app store on iPhone won't let you report an app anymore), do what you can. This is sickening and unfair.

They set out that very day, Rey and Ben and his knights. Ben rides at the head of the column; whenever Rey tries to spur her horse ahead to ride beside him, the knights block her path. 

“Why does Snoke want to see me?” she tries to ask once, after they’ve been riding for hours in silence, but the knight beside her raises his sword. 

“Quiet,” he snaps, striking her side with the flat of his sword. She cries out and doubles over, more out of shock than pain, but it’s enough to make Ben wheel his horse around.

“She is  _ not _ to be harmed!” he shouts, and the knights rein up quickly, a nervous silence falling over them.

“My apologies, Your Grace,” the knight who struck her murmurs, putting away his sword. 

Ben eyes him coldly. “Ap’lek, Cardo, deal with him,” he orders. 

“Your Grace--”

“Silence,” he orders, and the knight does not utter another word as his compatriots lead him off the road.

Rey looks after him. “What are they--”

“We should stop here,” Ben interrupts. “It will be nightfall soon.”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the knights murmur, dismounting to lead their horses off the road and make camp. Rey follows grudgingly, but as she moves to dismount, Ben comes to her side, his big hands plucking her gently from the saddle, and her grudging mood passes.

“Are you alright?” he asks once he’s set her down, hands still at her waist. His eyes are wide and concerned, and it touches her. 

“Yes.”

“He should not have done that.” His hands grip her waist fiercely. “He knew better. He will be dealt with.”

“What are you going to do to him?” she asks, but it is at that moment that a pained shout rings through the woods. She turns to look on the other side of the road, where the knight who struck her disappeared with Ap’lek and Cardo, but Ben puts a hand on her back and steers her away, down a hillside and towards a stream.

“Ben,” she protests. “What are you going to do to that man?”

“No more than he deserves,” he says harshly. 

“Ben--”

“There’s a stream,” he says unnecessarily, for she can see it right in front of her. “You can wash the dirt from the road from you, if you like. No one will disturb you.”

“What if I run away again?” she asks, more to be impish than because she means it. Now that he’s talking to her again, she doesn’t want to risk him walking away and giving her the cold shoulder again. 

He quirks his brow. “You’ll just come back again.”

“I might not. I might stay away this time.” She’s talking too fast, her voice high and breathless. 

He caresses her jaw. “Is that so?”

She nods emphatically. “Yes. You’ll have to stay here with me, to make sure I don’t run away again.”

She doesn’t miss the way his pupils contract. “Such a wicked girl, Rey.”

“Yes.” She nods again. “Very wicked.” She dances back a step, slowly tugging up the hem of her dress. “You’ll have to keep a close eye on me.” She pulls the dress up over her head, and now she’s bared down to her shift, the same shift she was in the last time they were together, the one she’d worn when he’d kept her in his room and she’d thought he’d meant to ravage her.

_ Maybe he’ll ravage me now, _ she thinks with an uncharacteristic thrill. She reaches for the laces of her bodice, undoing them, but he strides forward and wraps his arms around her, crushing her hands between their chests.

“Don’t,” he says softly. “Don’t, I don’t want him to see, don’t...please don’t.”

“Him?” she whispers. “Ben, do you mean--”

He squeezes her tighter, his face buried in her shoulder. “Don’t say it. Please.”

She stands frozen in place, immobilized by his body wrapped around hers. “Ben?” When he doesn’t answer, she prods, “Ben, why does he want to see me?”

He’s quiet for so long that she thinks he means to ignore her, but then he says, “I think it’s because when I’m with you...I can’t hear his voice in my head. And I don’t think he likes that.” Abruptly, he releases her. “Don’t run away.” And with that, he strides up the hill, making for camp.

She feels ashamed at the vulnerable state he’s left her in, and angry that it happened to her at all. She’s half tempted to run away anyway, see what happens then. But she wouldn’t get far, and Ben--and Snoke--would likely have little patience for such a stunt. 

Angry and resigned, she pulls off her shift and sits on a log to pull off her boots and stockings; bare now, she walks into the stream, splashing the cold water on her flesh. She’s dirtier than she thought, but the stream is shallow here, so she wades further upstream to find a deeper pool. When she rounds the bend, she finds a pretty sight; a waterfall about ten feet high, the water feeding merrily into the stream below. 

She stands beneath the fall of water, letting it wash her clean. The sun is making ready for its descent, and soon it will be dark. Sighing, she starts to leave, knowing she should head back before she’s stumbling blindly through the stream.

Instead, her foot slips on the slick rock beneath, and she stumbles forward. She throws up a hand, ready to catch herself against the rockwall...but instead, she keeps falling, landing painfully on her knees in a shallow pool.

It takes her a long moment to realize that she’s in a cave, hidden behind the waterfall. It’s mostly dark, save for the shaft of light coming in at the ceiling, and what looks like glass at the end of the cave.

No, not glass.

A mirror, though how one has come to be in this cave, she knows not. She sees the smudged outline of herself; as she moves closer, she comes more into focus, her naked body clear. 

She’s never seen herself like this before. She’s only caught glimpses of herself in burnished mirrors or pails of water, but never like this. Is this truly what she looks like? Is this what the maids saw when they’d bathed her? She’s skinny, all ribs and sharp hip bones, and her breasts are small, but she likes their rosy tips, and further down, the tangle of black curls between her legs. 

A bruise is blossoming on her side from where the knight’s sword struck her. She touches it gingerly; it’s red and purple now, but soon it will mottle and change colors. 

Her eyes drift back up to her face. Gently, she presses her fingers to the mirror wall...and finds her reflection fading. Instead, she sees a forest, and in it, a boy and a knight. Not just any boy and knight, though. Ben and Luke. She watches a little girl come barrelling through the woods; she opens her mouth and screams, and the boy looks up at her, but too late the little girl runs into him and he falls on his uncle’s sword.

The mirror swirls, and then it shows her a stormy night, rain falling in droves as Ben and his knights use chains to hold down a thrashing dragon. Another dragon, milk-pale and yellow-eyed, looms out of the darkness, and then its teeth sink into the other dragon’s chest, tearing its scaly flesh until it reaches the heart inside. Ben turns to look at her, his eyes yellow and his teeth sharp.

Again the mirror swirls, and now she sees herself, naked again, only she kneels before a giant heart, her hands and mouth bloody as she feasts upon the still-beating organ. When her reflection looks up at her with red eyes, she smiles.

“Don’t be afraid,” she whispers, and then bares sharp, pointed teeth.

Rey screams and stumbles back, released from the mirror. The shallow pool splashes beneath her feet as the mirror swirls, and then all she can see is herself, naked and trembling with fear. 

.

“I thought I’d find an answer,” she murmurs softly, staring into the flames. “I was wrong.” She shakes her head. “I’d never felt so alone.”

“You’re not alone.”

She looks across the fire, seeing Ben watching her with pity in his eyes. 

_ And he thought he needed me to teach him. _

Outside the tent, she can hear the chatter of the knights around the campfire. All except for one; Kuruk, the one who struck her, lies out on a bedroll, and Rey had known better than to ask questions. 

The knights answer to Ben, but they are not his friends. They swore an oath to protect him, but they also swore an oath to serve him. You can never truly be friends with the men who serve you. That’s why he sleeps in a nice warm tent, and they sleep outside on the cold, hard ground.

It must have been so easy, for Snoke to take control of his mind. A prince can have friends, a prince can have peers, but a king? A king has no peers, and so a king has no true friends. How lonely he must have felt after his father’s death, a death that he was forced to expedite; to go from a man to a king with a dragon’s heart…

_ He’s still so lonely, _ she realizes.  _ But he doesn’t have to be. _

_ You’re not alone, _ he’d said to her.

She swallows. “Neither are you.”

He stares at her, the pity giving way to self-consciousness, to trepidation, to fear. 

“It isn’t too late.” Slowly, she moves across the furs, resting a hand over his heart. It beats strangely, slower and heavier than a normal heart.

_ A dragon’s heart, _ she thinks.

Ben looks at her with wide, almost fearful eyes. She unlaces the front of his tunic and tugs it down to reveal the scar over his chest; she kisses it sweetly, as if to soothe the hate and anger that brew there.

Ben sucks in a breath, and now she can feel his heart beating faster. She kisses his neck, feeling him swallow, then his jaw, and then the corner of his mouth.

“Rey,” he rasps, and she presses her lips to his.

She had a very fine wine once, when she still lived with Unkar. It was a rare vintage that he’d paid a pretty penny for, and drunk, he’d offered her a generous cup. The wine had been strong but sweet, and it had left her feeling lightheaded. 

That’s what Ben’s kiss reminds her of; strong but sweet and leaving her lightheaded. She drinks him up, her tongue licking at the seam of his lips until he opens them for her, and oh, that’s even sweeter. Big as he is, she has to clamber into his lap and straddle him so she doesn’t have to keep craning her head, and  _ that _ is somehow even sweeter, for it presses her center to his. She feels him grow and stiffen beneath her, and the friction is so lovely she cannot help but gasp. 

“Rey,” he groans, his hands gripping her waist, and then he’s moving her onto her back. She keeps her legs wrapped around his waist, loath to let him go, but he does not try to pry her away; if anything, his fingers dance up her leg, finding the hem of her dress and loosening it from where it’s tucked between their bodies. She kisses his neck, her teeth scraping the flesh there as he pushes her dress up around her hips. 

“Ben,” she breathes.

He reaches down to unlace himself when a voice from outside shatters the heady peace inside the tent.

“Your Grace?”

Ben curses under his breath. “What?” he snarls.

“Pardon, Your Grace, but the men saw a dragon.”

Ben sits up. Rey sits up too, tugging her dress down to her ankles and snapping her legs together as Ben gets to his feet and orders the knight to enter.

The man does, bowing. “Your Grace.”

“A dragon? Snoke?”

“No, not Snoke. It was darker.” The man shifts uncomfortably. “It looks...pardon, Your Grace, but it looks like Obi-Wan.”

She can feel the tension radiating from Ben. “I see. Where did you see the dragon?”

“Flying overhead. Headed north.”

“North,” Ben muses. “Thank you, Trudgen.”

The knight bows and leaves them.

“Obi-Wan,” Ben says, running a hand through his hair. He looks down at Rey, who watches him warily. His eyes harden. “Did you plan this?”

“What? No!” she exclaims, scrambling to her feet. “Ben, no--”

“I am your king,” he says flatly. 

She swallows. “Your Grace,” she murmurs. “I swear to you, I had no idea Obi-Wan was planning to come to the mainland.”

“The mainland?”

She winces. “I…”

“Ahch-To,” he realizes. “That’s where he and Luke were hiding, isn’t it?”

She hangs her head. “Yes.”

“You knew. You went there.”

“And I came back,” she says forcefully, looking up at him. “Yes, I went to Luke, because I wanted to stop Snoke and I thought he was the answer. He wasn’t. Obi-Wan showed me that. It was never about fighting Snoke...it was about saving  _ you _ .” 

He sneers. “You think you can save me?” He lowers his face to hers. “I’m beyond saving, Rey, no matter how prettily you bat those eyes or how easily you open your legs for me.”

She stumbles back a step, mortified.

Satisfied, he straightens up. “Take the bed. I’ll sleep on a pallet. And don’t even think about trying your woman’s tricks again.”

_ Maybe he is beyond saving, _ she thinks sadly. 

.

She wakes to a throbbing pain in her side. She groans, rolling onto her back as she remembers the flat of the sword hitting her ribs. 

She’s alone in the tent; she can see the morning light outside and knows Ben must be out amongst his men. She sits up on the bed and tugs at her shift, working it past her hips and bunching it around her chest as she cranes her neck to examine the bruise on her side. 

The skin is a mottled red lined in purple, starbursts of white and yellow dotted here and there. She reaches down to touch it, hissing when she touches the sensitive skin.

The tent flap opens and Ben walks through right at that moment. She drops her shift, yanking the furs up around her chest.

He stares at her for a long moment, his expression unreadable. 

“Does it hurt?” he asks at last.

She stares hard at her feet. “Are you going to hurt Kuruk some more if I say yes?”

She doesn’t have to look to know he’s sneering. “He hurt you, yet you resent me for punishing him? Most people would thank me.”

“You didn’t do it for me, though. You did it because he disobeyed you.” She finally forces herself to meet his gaze. “You made it very clear how you feel about me last night.”

He looks stricken, but she doesn’t allow herself to dwell on that; she throws back the covers and reaches for her dress, pulling it over her head quickly despite the pain in her side. She tugs on her stockings and her boots, and when she makes to leave the tent, Ben grabs her arm, rooting her to the spot.

“Rey,” he says, and his voice is soft and  _ Ben _ again. “You swear you did not know Obi-Wan was coming?”

“Of course I swear,” she says in surprise. 

His shoulders sag in relief, and she feels a pang of guilt. Did he really spend all night wondering if she’d betrayed him? When she’d pulled him atop her on the furs and spread her legs, had he really wondered if she was trying to trick him?

“I don’t know what he’s doing on the mainland, I swear to you. And I wasn’t...I wasn’t trying any...woman’s tricks on you. I wouldn’t even know where to start.”

He closes his eyes, his breath catching. “Don’t tell me that.”

“Why?”

He doesn’t give her an answer; not a real one, anyway. What he does give her is a kiss, his hands cupping her head with such tenderness despite their size and strength. 

_ He could crush my skull if he wanted to, _ she thinks dimly. 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispers against her lips.

“Ben?”

But he releases her, so abruptly that she stumbles back, and goes to pull on his riding cloak and gloves. Confused, Rey lurches outside, picking her way down to the stream to wash her face and drink the cold, clear water. When she ascends the hill, the camp is all but packed up. One of the knights wordlessly hands her bread still warm from the fire and an apple. She scarfs them down as they pack up the rest of the camp; by the time she’s done, they are mounting up.

Kuruk is struggling to mount, grunting and wheezing. Though one of the knights is holding her horse by the bridle and waiting for her to mount, she goes to Kuruk, reaching to help him.

“What are you doing?” he asks mistrustfully, peering at her from beneath his helm. She can see sweat dripping down his face from his exertions.

“Helping you.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s my fault you’re hurt,” she says softly. 

He shakes his head. “I struck you.”

“And you will never strike me again.” It isn’t a threat, only a statement of fact. 

“No,” he admits. “I will not.” 

“Good. Now let me help you.”

Reluctantly, Kuruk lets her help him up and onto his horse, hissing in pain when he finally settles in the saddle. He’s still sweating, but he bows his head. “Thank you, my lady.”

She bows her head in return and mounts her own horse. Ben watches her with a curious expression. 

“Shall we?” she asks briskly.

He bows his head and leads them onto the road.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are - the final chapter! Thanks all who have followed along on this journey. I know my fics have gotten increasingly niche over time and I'm just glad people are out there reading them!

Snoke dwells atop a mountain known as The Throne, so called because of its odd, flat shelf halfway up the slope. In days past, it was used as a watchtower; spies and lookouts would use it to watch enemy movement. It’s the perfect place for a dragon like Snoke; he can see anyone coming for miles around without having to bestir himself. 

The mountain road is steep and narrow, and soon it becomes impossible for the horses to go any further. 

“We’ll go the rest of the way on foot,” Ben tells her.

Rey looks up at the shelf above them with no small amount of trepidation. Up there, one of the cruelest and vilest of creatures waits for her. Why, she still doesn’t know...but she’s about to find out. 

Kuruk holds her horse’s bridle while she dismounts; she moves to join Ben, but the knight subtly blocks her path, pressing something into her hand. 

“Take this,” he whispers. 

She takes the object in his hand, her fingers grasping the hilt of a knife. She looks at him with wide eyes. 

“Your boot, my lady,” he says, releasing the knife. She takes his meaning and bends down ostensibly to tighten the laces of her boot; in truth, she tucks the knife inside. When she straightens up, Kuruk moves away. 

Ben is waiting for her at the head of the path. She takes a deep breath and follows him.

.

They’re quiet most of the way up. The path is steep and narrow, sometimes little more than a goat path. Once or twice Ben offers to help Rey up some rocks, but she brushes him off each time, determined to make her own way. Even so, it’s a long way, and she’s panting with exhaustion halfway up. 

“We’ll stop a moment,” Ben decides, his own breath coming in short bursts as he leans against a boulder. Even so, he seems so composed, hardly a hair out of place or a drop of sweat on him. Not Rey. She’s sure that she’s a mess.

They’re quiet for a moment, each catching their breath, before Rey turns to Ben.

“You don’t have to do this,” she tells him. 

His face becomes a stone mask, impassive as he stares past her. 

“I can  _ feel _ the conflict in you. It’s tearing you apart.” When he doesn’t look at her, she says his name. “Ben.”

His eyes flicker to hers, and she sees so much pain there, so much sadness. Is it too late to go back now? Can she fix this? 

“You don’t have to bow before Snoke,” she murmurs, moving closer. He watches her with guarded eyes. “You can still turn away.” In a whisper, she promises, “I’ll help you.”

“You’ll be the one to turn,” he whispers back. “You’ll stand with me and rule as my queen.” So quietly she almost doesn’t hear it, he adds, “I saw it.”

Before she can ask him what he means, he grasps her arm--gently, not hard at all--and pulls her the rest of the way up the path.

There’s a steep ledge above them, but crude stone steps have been carved into the cliff face. When Rey follows Ben up these steps, her breath catches in her throat.

The seat of The Throne is a wide, flat plain of stone. At the other end is a cliff face which stretches up some two hundred feet to the mountain’s peak. In the late afternoon sun, the limestone looks red, and it’s this redness that makes the creature before it so much more menacing.

A pale white dragon, scarred from battle and withered with age, lies curled up on the plain, yellow eyes watching them approach with something like satisfaction. Puffs of smoke rise up from his slanted nostrils, and when he speaks, he sounds like an old man.

“Well done, my good and faithful companion,” he crows, his tail swaying like a cat’s. “My faith in you is restored.”

Quietly, the king kneels on the ground.

The dragon gives Rey a wide smile, baring pointed yellow teeth; at their roots, Rey sees dried blood. “Young Rey,” he hums. “Welcome. Come closer, child.”

She only stands still and defiant.

If her disobedience angers Snoke, he shows no sign of it, only flicks his tail in mild interest. “So much strength. The hatchling could smell it on you.” His eyes flicker to Ben, and narrow in contempt. “And the human bonded to me could smell something  _ else _ .” His eyes flicker back to her. “Closer, I said.” And with that, his tail lashes out, wrapping around her body and dragging her closer. 

She clamps her arms to her sides, breathing hard and willing him not to see her fear. “You underestimate the king. And me. It will be your downfall.”

“Oh,” the dragon gasps with mock horror, and Rey feels her spirits sink. “Have you seen something? A weakness in my companion?” He laughs cruelly, his rancid breath washing over her. “Young fool. Ben may lust for you, but he does not love you. His human heart barely beats; it is my dragon’s heart that makes the blood flow through his veins. He could never love you the way you think. I admit, I was willing to indulge his little fantasy, but now that I know you’ve been to Skywalker…”

She can feel her stomach drop. He must see it in her face because he laughs. “I see  _ everything _ Ben sees, young Rey. Or nearly everything.” His tail twitches around her. “I know you’ve been to Skywalker, but I don’t know where. So now, you’ll give him to me.” He leans in, his face inches from hers. “Then I will kill you with the cruelest stroke.” 

Despite her fear, despite the roiling in her stomach, she manages to spit out the word, “No.”

_ “Yes,” _ he hisses, and then hurls her onto the ground. A blinding white light fills her senses, overwhelming her until she screams. 

“Give. Me.  _ Everything _ .”

It feels like hours that the white light blinds her, pressing in her every thought, every feeling, until she’s sure she’ll burst. But when the light finally fades and the pain recedes, the sun is only now beginning to set, filling the sky with a blood-red hue. 

“I did not expect Skywalker to be so  _ wise _ ,” Snoke chuckles as Rey sits up, shaking. “We will give him and the rest of the dragons the death he desires. After I deal with this one, we will go to his island, and I will feast on  _ both _ their hearts.”

A flash of something above catches Rey’s eye. 

_ Obi-Wan. _

It  _ was _ him the men spotted last night; he must have come all this way to help her.

Snoke’s own eyes flicker up, and, wanting him to be taken unaware, she clambers to her feet and pulls the knife out of her boot. 

“Ooh, and still that fiery spit of hope!” Snoke sneers. “You have the spirit of a true dragonslayer...and because of that, you must die.” His tail flicks out, knocking her off her feet again. “My worthy apprentice,” the dragon continues. “Dragonheart and king. Where there was conflict, I now sense resolve. Where there was weakness, strength. Complete your training and fulfill your destiny.”

To Rey’s horror, Ben unsheathes his sword (her sword, Luke’s sword, the sword that belonged to his father before him) and stands up, walking towards her. She’s still on the ground, looking up at him imploringly, but his face is an expressionless mask. 

“I know what I have to do,” he says softly. 

“Ben?” she whispers, afraid.

Behind her, Snoke laughs coldly. “You think you can turn him? Pathetic child. I cannot be betrayed. I cannot be beaten. I see his mind, I see his every intent. Yes. I see him turning the sword to strike true. And now, foolish child, he aims it and kills his true enemy!”

Ben draws back his swordhand, preparing to drive the point into Rey’s heart...but she hears the flap of wings overhead, and then Ben is running around her. She turns to look behind her, and she sees Obi-Wan descending on Snoke, his talons open. Snoke roars, his wings unfurling as he prepares to push off the ground and meet Obi-Wan in midair. 

He doesn’t get that far, however, because a sword plunges into his chest, and the dragon lets out a horrible, earth-shattering shriek as it makes its mark. 

Rey shrieks, too, scrambling to her feet and running to Ben. Snoke sways on the spot and so does Ben; when Obi-Wan lands on Snoke, Ben falls back into Rey’s arms. He’s a big man, and she buckles under his weight, falling hard to her knees as she holds him.

“Ben!” she shouts, peering down at him in fear. 

He’s still alive, but only just. His face is pale, and when she puts a hand over his heart, she can feel the sluggish beat of a dying heart. 

“Ben, why did you do that?” she demands, tears springing to her eyes. 

“It was the only way to be free,” he whispers. He’s staring up at her with a sad smile. “It was the only way to make things right.”

“How is killing yourself making things right?” She can feel the tears blurring her vision; they roll down her cheeks and splatter on Ben’s doublet. 

With what’s left of his strength, he reaches up to touch her cheek. “Because it saved you.”

She turns to kiss his hand, but already it’s going limp. She cries even harder, startling when a hand touches her shoulder.

It’s Luke, his face full of more sorrow and regret than she knew was in him. 

“I tried to save him once, and I failed him,” he says gently. “Let me do it right this time.”

“What?”

But Luke is already reaching for her knife and aiming it at his chest. 

“What are you doing?!” she shouts, but Obi-Wan lowers his head to her other side.

“It’s alright, Rey,” he says gently. “Look away.”

“I don’t--”

“Sleep,” he commands, his voice laden with an ancient power, and all fades to black.

.

When she comes to, night has fallen, but the moon is full and she can see Ben’s face peering down at her.

She sits up, hardly daring to believe that he’s here, his arms around her. She reaches out to touch his face, as if to assure herself that he’s here, that he’s alive, before she surges forward and kisses him. 

Can it really have only been one day since they last kissed? It feels like a year since they kissed and fought and climbed the mountain and Ben died…

Ben died.

She pulls back, and he’s smiling, but she presses the heel of her hand to his chest and feels a steady  _ thump-thump, thump-thump. _

“You’re alive,” she whispers. “How?”

His smile dims. “Luke,” he says softly. “He gave me his heart. Obi-Wan’s heart.”

She follows his eyes to the side and sees Luke lying on the ground, his chest bloody but his face at peace. Tears fill her eyes.  _ He died so Ben could live. _

“Don’t cry,” Ben murmurs, brushing the tears from her cheeks. She turns back to him, burying her face in his chest. His uneven heartbeat is oddly comforting. 

_ It’s Obi-Wan’s heart. Not Snoke’s, not the black withered thing without pity. Obi-Wan’s heart is full of love and kindness and hope. It is the heart of a dragon, the heart of Luke Skywalker, and now the heart of Ben Solo. _

“Rey,” Ben says, and she peers up at him through lashes thick with tears. He’s never looked more handsome than he does right now. “Come back with me. Marry me.” He swallows. “Love me.”

She presses her forehead to his. “I already do.”

.

_ One Month Later _

.

The bells ring from sunup to sundown, heralding the royal wedding. Guests come from all over the land--lords and ladies, knights and damsels, and even the ancient dragon Obi-Wan and the hatchling BeeBee. 

(“He must have a more dignified name,” Obi-Wan insists. 

“When he learns to speak, he can choose his own name, but for now, he’s BeeBee,” Rey insists right back.)

They marry in the cathedral, the priest binding their hands with ribbon as in the old days. Ben looks resplendent in blue--not black,  _ blue _ \--and when he takes her for his wife, the room bursts into cheers. 

“I love you,” he whispers just before he kisses her.

Rey smiles up at him. “I know.”

.

Most queens are crowned a month or so after their wedding, but Ben had insisted on combining the coronation with the wedding. 

“She will rule beside me, and her reign begins the day I take her for my wife,” he’d insisted. He’d have had the wedding  _ and _ coronation take place as soon as they got back from The Throne had his mother not intervened. 

“Do that and they’ll all think she’s with child,” Queen Leia had said wryly.

The queen has become the mother Rey never had, caring for her in a way the priests and Unkar Plutt never did. She truly considers Rey her own child, and though she’d urged the couple to wait a month, it’s clear that no one is more pleased about the wedding than she is--including the bride and bridegroom.

It’s her face Rey looks for now when Ben settles the crown upon her head. The queen is smiling at her, and Rey smiles back, and when she looks up at Ben he’s smiling too. 

“All hail Queen Rey!”

_ “All hail Queen Rey!” _

.

After it all, the feast and the congratulations and the dancing and the bedding, they lie in his bed together, her head on his chest as she listens to his heart. It was fast when she first laid her head on his chest, but as the sweat had cooled and his breathing had returned to normal, his heart had slowed to a steady, contented rhythm. 

He runs his fingers through her hair. “I like your hair loose.”

She lifts her head to look up at him, smiling. “I can’t wear it loose anymore; I’m a married woman, remember? I must needs wear it around my ears.”

“You are the queen, you can do whatever you want,” he huffs. “Better yet, I am the  _ king _ , and I  _ command _ you to wear it loose.”

“What if I like it around my ears?”

“Then you shall wear it around your ears.” 

She reaches up to kiss him, savoring the wine-sweet taste of him. Desire ignites like a fire, and they both shift to touch each other.

Outside, a beautiful but haunting melody rises up, unlike anything Rey’s ever heard before. She looks towards the window, overcome with an emotion she can’t place.

“What is it?” she asks.

Ben presses his cheek to hers. “It’s dragonsong. It has not been heard in this kingdom in many years.” He presses a kiss to her cheek. “It’s for you, Rey. You saved the dragons.”

“ _ You _ saved the dragons,” she protests.

He shakes his head, a smile on his face. “You saved the dragons...and me.” 

She traces the scar on his chest, still red and raw. “No,” she hums. “We saved each other.”

He kisses her and twines her in his arms as the dragonsong fills the room. 


End file.
